


Raising Risk

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hunting, M/M, Spanking, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-27
Updated: 2011-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 16: Chance. Dean and Sam decide to take care of the demon they’ve been researching before John can turn it into a long hunt - and wind up in big trouble with their elders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raising Risk

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only. Follows in series from previous prompts, but stands alone if preferred.

The boys watch the cloud of dust from Jim’s sedan pulling out of the driveway, and Sam nervously looks at Dean.

“This is it. You still sure we want to do this?”

“It’s this or let Dad do it, and we’ll be planning for days if we let him.”

“Dean, you and I have been planning for days.”

“Not the way Dad plans.”

This is true. Dean and Sam, they’re fully cognizant of the fact that their father has taken Bobby and Jim to go look for supplies for a hunt, to talk about it with them privately, now that they’ve had time to study Sam’s translation of the rituals that will call and then bind a demon. John can’t let anything that preys on children go untouched, even though it’s unlikely that the demon will make a move. So the two of them, late at night when they’re supposed to be sleeping, they’ve made their own plans, because Sam understands the ritual just as well as Bobby does, Dean knows how to keep Sam safe just as well as John might. Both of them are pissed that it’s intruded into their downtime, and they’re determined not to let it more than it has.

Sam’s got the ritual gear ready, Dean’s prepped the weapons. They shower together, trading long kisses, both feeling strange. This isn’t the way they usually go into a hunt, hiding something from John like this. They’re usually not so sure of themselves, either. Sam pours the last of the ritual bathwater over the two of them, and hands Dean the plain muslin ritual robe.

“Damnit, Sam, it’s cold out there, you know?”

“Once I complete the summoning you’ll be fine.”

“Barefoot-“

“Dude. I don’t question your choice of ammo. You gonna push this?”

Dean sighs, they dress, pick up their rucksacks, and head up to the clearing they’ve picked. Sam would say to Dean later, wryly, that they might have thought to take a cell phone with them.

It’s a long ritual, and they’re both shivering, and jump when the flames burst up from the edges of the salt circle. Then Sam’s staring down at the demon. They’re used to their evil looking, well, evil. This demon, has childlike features, moves slowly and awkwardly, looks at them without protest. It bothers Sam, but Dean notes the way it’s eyes move over the sigils singed into the earth, the way it looks both of them up and down. It’s subdued, he can feel it realize that it’s trapped, but he can’t figure out quite why it’s not putting up a fight.

At least, not until Sam begins the binding spell. Every word that falls from Sam’s lips, the demon just looks calmer and more serene. Dean’s got an eye on it, has the demon in his sights. Sam packed the shot himself, banishing herbs, silver that will weaken this demon at least temporarily until Sam can free himself from the circle, if it becomes necessary. Dean doesn’t move when Sam hollers back.

“Problem.”

“Noticed,” he replies. “Ideas?” The demon’s calm is eerie.

“Just break the circle and let me free, child,” it says, in an old man’s voice.

Sam’s only reply is to begin an exorcism that Dean remembers from another hunt. There’s a flash of light at the end of it, all right, but the demon remains. Sam’s voice just goes on, and Dean’s getting more and more anxious, though he doesn’t move from his position.

It isn’t much longer before he hears a growl behind him, and thinks, Shit, this is it. I have to take my eyes off of Sam, and that fucker’s gonna take him down, and I’m next. And then he recognizes the growl. It’s his name, and John Winchester is beyond pissed. His skin practically creeps away without him, but he remains fixed on his target.

Then Bobby and Jim move into his field of vision – Bobby’s spotting Jim, keeping him out of Dean’s line of fire – probably John’s too, though Dean’s not looking to see. Jim raises an old, old cross, and begins chanting. All of the men are preternaturally calm. As Jim begins to chant the demon shows the first signs of emotion, becomes frantic, slamming back and forth in the circle Sam’s got it in. Finally, with Jim’s last sonorous words, it gives a wail that none of them will ever forget, and they see a mist rise from it, full of children’s faces. And then Jim’s tossing a branch wet with holy water, dead to the center of the circle, and the demon’s gone.

There’s silence, and Sam sags to his knees.

“Sam.” Jim’s voice is quiet. “You’ll need me to dismiss the protections with you, son.” Both boys can hear the disappointment in Jim’s voice, and wince. Jim’s angry, to boot, but he controls it better than John does. Sam nods, stands back up, and they spend a few moments reciting, and then the last of the fires die down, and Sam’s stepping out. Jim looks between Bobby and John.

“I’ll be back at the house,” he says, and stalks out of the clearing. Both boys swallow simultaneously as they exchange looks. The air still feels alive in the clearing, but somehow they don’t think it’s the banishment, or the demon’s presence. Likely it’s the invocation of the numbers one through one hundred, failing to help John keep his temper.

“What do you boys think you’re doing.” The words are clipped, short. Dean takes a breath.

“Thought we’d take care of the problem.”

“Did you now.”

Ok. Apology next. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Dean says, meaning it.

“Missed a little bit of research, did you Sam?” Bobby sounds just as angry.

“DAMMIT, DEAN!” The roar bursts out of John as he rounds on his oldest son, grabbing his arm. Dean sort of shrinks. “I’ll be damned if you walk out of this mistake without knowing just what I think of it,” John says grimly, “And we can talk about the details later.” With that, he pins Dean firmly, and raises his hand. Motion catches his eye, Sam’s trying to bolt, face white. Bobby’s right there to grab him, though, and John exchanges looks with his old friend. Bobby’s eyes are narrowed in a way John recognizes, and he nods once before he refocuses his attention on Dean, bringing his hand down on the boy’s backside as hard and fast as he can. Dean’s hanging limp in his hands, not fighting him, knows how badly he’s screwed up this time, though he tenses when he hears Sam yelp.

The sound draws a snort from John as he continues spanking, and Dean twists just a little bit to look for his little brother. The sight that catches his eye shocks him, and as disbelief spreads through him, it seems to increase the pain of John’s spanking tenfold. Bobby’s got Sam pinned the same way John’s holding Dean, and spanking him just as hard, the way Sam’s squirming in the older man’s grasp. The clearing is filled with the sounds of the cracking swats, which seem to go on forever before the boys both can’t quite take any more, eyes filling up with tears, unable to hold back gasps and whimpers of pain – both of them damn trained hunters, wounded near to death more times than they care to count, and neither of them can handle being spanked.

Bobby feels the boy begin to shiver, and yanks him upright, about the same time that John instinctually feels that Dean’s had enough, and forces his son to stand up straight. John takes a deep breath.

“I find it hard to comprehend that the two of you would both make such a damn stupid mistake. You’re both confined to quarters until I tell you otherwise, and you better believe there’s gonna be discussion on why that didn’t go as you planned it, boys. Now, the two of you are gonna rake over the site, make sure this is cleaned up, and then you’re going to go back to the house, shower, and put yourselves to bed. I don’t want to see either of your faces before morning, understand?”

There’s two subdued ‘yessir’s' and John and Bobby make their way back down to the house, undoubtedly discussing the boys. Sam’s the first to move, Dean hasn’t stepped a hair away from where John left him eyes planted on the ground, which is sort of swimming when he looks at it.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice is soft and pleading, and a little desperate, and breaks Dean out of his stance. They move together, embracing, and Dean quiets Sam’s shivers without words. It’s a few minutes before they can turn to the task given them, and as they finish the cleanup, he realizes Sam isn’t looking at him.

“What gives, Sam.” Sam blushes, and won’t reply. “Dude, it can’t be worse than what we’re in for. We screwed up. It happens. You and me. In it together. It could be worse.” Sam snorts at that, and Dean studies him for a minute, figures it out. “Give it up, Sam. You’re not the only one Bobby ever spanked – better him than Dad, dude.” He stops in surprise as Sam’s face goes even redder, as they approach the lights of the house, and they quietly sneak up the back stairs.

“What is it,” he whispers under the safe noise of the shower they’re sharing.

“I’d rather Dad,” Sam confesses.

“I know-“

“No, Dean, LOOK,” he whispers, and turns so Dean can see, and Dean catches himself before he whistles. Apparently Bobby spanks every bit as hard as John does, because Sam’s ass looks just as bad as Dean’s, which they confirm in the mirror after they’re through. They crawl in bed, and the door opens, revealing Jim’s silver hair haloed in the light, and both of them tense.

Jim simply sits on the side of the bed, and murmurs the words of an old blessing, traces the sign of the cross on both their foreheads.

“You were very lucky, boys.” They both nod, not wanting to talk about it. “Get some sleep.”

They turn to one another, eyes luminous in the darkness, harboring unshed tears. The kiss is all the apology they need for one another – and they’ll need the strength of their bond to make the second one to their father in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Music: Erasure - Take A Chance On Me


End file.
